Melbourne Cup wide open (AUS)

Tuesday, 1 November 2011

For some years, the phrase that has driven the Australian political debate - some might suggest down a dead end - has been ''stop the boats''. For disenfranchised local owners and trainers on Melbourne Cup day, the now overwhelming domination by foreign-bred horses might prompt an equine version: stop the floats.

Of the 24 horses in today's race, 22 are foreign-bred. Eleven are the so-called international raiders who have travelled in pursuit of a share of the $6 million prizemoney. Several others have been imported by owners who have abandoned the traditional, time-consuming practice of breeding and preparing a local runner. Instead, they scour well-stocked European stables for ready-made Melbourne Cup prospects.

Such is the size and class of the foreign presence the Melbourne Cup is now regarded by most as the greatest staying race in the world. A plan hatched 25 years ago to turn an iconic local handicap into what racing's poet laureate Les Carlyon called ''world series staying'' has been fulfilled. If, as some experts predict, last year's winner, Americain, and his fellow French stayer Dunaden fight out an un-deux finish, the race's global lustre will only be enhanced.

Deservedly, Melbourne Cup organisers revel in the international spotlight they have created, citing financial benefits for the local racing industry and tourism. But thumbing down a field that contains just two locally-bred runners - the well-fancied Niwot and outsider The Verminator - the cost of bringing the world to the Melbourne Cup in order to take the Melbourne Cup to the world is apparent.

For some, the appeal of the 150-year-old race has been as much about the romantic stories of local hopefuls living a once-in-a-lifetime dream as what happens on race day. In recent times, there has been Leica Falcon, bred in a paddock next door to his owner's house near Albury and trained by a part-time sheep farmer at Corowa, on the Murray River. And Alcopop, a former polo pony bought for a pittance who could be found, just days before the race, licking a feed bin in a tin shed on a remote bush block on South Australia's Eyre Peninsula.

Neither horse won. But they, and others like them, were significant characters in the race's narrative, the remaining connection between what the race had been, and what it had become.

And now? Some, such as the 12 times Melbourne Cup-winning trainer Bart Cummings, have long lamented the special treatment afforded imported horses - fancy training tracks, even favourable track conditions. But most blame the decline of the local stayer, as much as the rise in the number of imports, for the lack of local competitors.

The Australian breeding industry, the theory goes, is obsessed with producing sprinter/milers that can race profitably much younger and provide a quick return for investors. Last week Gai Waterhouse criticised racing clubs which, she said, had reduced the number of quality staying races. The Brisbane and Perth cups, once run over the Melbourne Cup distance of 3200 metres, have both been reduced to 2400m jaunts.

The strength of the dollar has also been a factor. It has made the Cup's $6 million prizemoney even more attractive to foreigners, and the purchase of those ready-made imported stayers more economical.

Significantly, the star of this spring, the brilliant sprinter Black Caviar, has no more chance of winning the Melbourne Cup than Usain Bolt has of winning the marathon at the Olympics. Yet some suggest Black Caviar's appearance on the last day of the carnival will be more keenly anticipated than the Cup, where Australians will be mostly observers rather than participants.

Some foreign raiders at least now compete in lead-up races such as the Geelong Cup - won last year by Americain, and this year by Dunaden - giving punters more idea about their often enigmatic form.

Over a quarter of a century, the internationals have also created their own traditions. One is that, for Dubai's Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid al Maktoum, oil money cannot buy everything. As always, the sheikh's persistent Godolphin stable is buoyant about the prospects of its latest runners, Lost In The Moment and Modun.

One thing has not changed. In pursuit of his ''baker's dozen'', Cummings has two runners, Precedence and his best chance, Illo, who - in accordance with the new fashion - was only recently imported from Germany. That forced the master trainer to hasten his tried-and-true preparation - an indication that, if you want to win this international Melbourne Cup, even an 83-year-old legend must change with the times